Author: Kim Michele Richardson
Published: May 7, 2019 by Sourcebooks Landmark
Format: Paperback, 309 Pages
Genre: Historical Fiction
Series: The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek #1
Blurb: In 1936, tucked deep into the woods of Troublesome Creek, KY, lives blue-skinned 19-year-old Cussy Carter, the last living female of the rare Blue People ancestry.
The lonely young Appalachian woman joins the historical Pack Horse Library Project of Kentucky and becomes a librarian, riding across slippery creek beds and up treacherous mountains on her faithful mule to deliver books and other reading material to the impoverished hill people of Eastern Kentucky.
Along her dangerous route, Cussy, known to the mountain folk as Bluet, confronts those suspicious of her damselfly-blue skin and the government's new book program. She befriends hardscrabble and complex fellow Kentuckians, and is fiercely determined to bring comfort and joy, instill literacy, and give to those who have nothing, a bookly respite, a fleeting retreat to faraway lands.
My Opinion: This novel surprised me in the best way. The kind of surprise where you pause mid chapter thinking, “How did I not know this?” I’d heard whispers years ago about the Blue People of Kentucky, but I’d filed it away as one of those half mythical Appalachian tales people repeat without really knowing the truth. So, imagine my delight (and a little embarrassment) when I learned it wasn’t folklore at all but a real genetic condition, wrapped in generations of misunderstanding and prejudice. And the kicker? They were lumped into the “colored” category too, yet another piece of American history that somehow never made it into any classroom.
Then there are the Pack Horse Librarians—the Bookwomen—riding up and down those rugged hills delivering stories, news, and connection to families who had almost nothing else. I had never heard of them before this book, which feels wild considering how essential their work was. It makes perfect sense once you’re in the thick of the story when you consider how books were a lifeline; of course, women stepped into that gap, and yet history barely bothered to mention them.
This is exactly why I love historical fiction when it’s done with care. There’s a particular joy in feeling an author’s research humming beneath the narrative, not heavy handed, not textbook dry, but alive. You get the sense that Richardson dug deep, found the threads history left behind, and stitched them into something that feels both intimate and illuminating. It’s the kind of reading experience where you walk away with a fuller heart and a fuller mind.
And here’s the funny part: this book had been sitting on my shelf for ages, quietly waiting for the right time. When I finally picked it up, I didn’t even realize it was the first in a duology. So now, naturally, the second book has muscled its way onto my next book shopping list. Some stories just insist on being seen.
The lonely young Appalachian woman joins the historical Pack Horse Library Project of Kentucky and becomes a librarian, riding across slippery creek beds and up treacherous mountains on her faithful mule to deliver books and other reading material to the impoverished hill people of Eastern Kentucky.
Along her dangerous route, Cussy, known to the mountain folk as Bluet, confronts those suspicious of her damselfly-blue skin and the government's new book program. She befriends hardscrabble and complex fellow Kentuckians, and is fiercely determined to bring comfort and joy, instill literacy, and give to those who have nothing, a bookly respite, a fleeting retreat to faraway lands.
My Opinion: This novel surprised me in the best way. The kind of surprise where you pause mid chapter thinking, “How did I not know this?” I’d heard whispers years ago about the Blue People of Kentucky, but I’d filed it away as one of those half mythical Appalachian tales people repeat without really knowing the truth. So, imagine my delight (and a little embarrassment) when I learned it wasn’t folklore at all but a real genetic condition, wrapped in generations of misunderstanding and prejudice. And the kicker? They were lumped into the “colored” category too, yet another piece of American history that somehow never made it into any classroom.
Then there are the Pack Horse Librarians—the Bookwomen—riding up and down those rugged hills delivering stories, news, and connection to families who had almost nothing else. I had never heard of them before this book, which feels wild considering how essential their work was. It makes perfect sense once you’re in the thick of the story when you consider how books were a lifeline; of course, women stepped into that gap, and yet history barely bothered to mention them.
This is exactly why I love historical fiction when it’s done with care. There’s a particular joy in feeling an author’s research humming beneath the narrative, not heavy handed, not textbook dry, but alive. You get the sense that Richardson dug deep, found the threads history left behind, and stitched them into something that feels both intimate and illuminating. It’s the kind of reading experience where you walk away with a fuller heart and a fuller mind.
And here’s the funny part: this book had been sitting on my shelf for ages, quietly waiting for the right time. When I finally picked it up, I didn’t even realize it was the first in a duology. So now, naturally, the second book has muscled its way onto my next book shopping list. Some stories just insist on being seen.
